HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT

Rockaway Athletic Club
2719 Rosewood Dr.
Columbia, SC
(803) 259-1075

The nondescript Rockaway Athletic Club hides out in the open

Rockaway athletic club is hidden in plain sight in Columbia’s Rosewood district. The plain brick building has no signage all. Neither does it have a Website. It seems to have sustained a loyal customer base on word of mouth alone. It sits at the corner of Rosewood and Holloway in a nondescript building that must at one time have been a manufacturing plant of some kind. It’s easy to miss, as I did the first two times I went looking for it. (Hint: There’s a Karate school across the street.). I went there, apparently like most customers; because an acquaintance told me that they had a great pimiento cheeseburger, which is a favorite of mine. The small parking lot at the rear was about half full, as was the restaurant itself on this early Friday night. There is a back porch that sits about thirty with the de rigueur big screen TV tuned to ESPN’s Sports Center. Inside is a warren with at least two bars and several dining rooms. The furniture was eclectic with a cigar store Indian, a framed French cartoon, reminders of Saint Patty’s Day, Cinquo de Mayo, and Oktoberfest—the beer drinker’s holidays. In one corner, below a canoe hanging from the ceiling was a framed “quilt” of t-shirts the place had commissioned commemorating various festivals going back at least ten years, a paean the joint’s staying power. A huge map of South Carolina took up a whole wall near the door.

We found a table in a side room with a TV tuned to that salvation of insomniacs, the Golf channel. Above our table was a reproduction of a photo of Samuel Clemmons. The only hint of athleticism, other than the TV’s and the high and dry canoe was a pool table in the middle of our dining room that had service ware stacked on its vinyl covering. The waitress claimed that the place had “just about any brand of beer you want.” I couldn’t think of the brand name I wanted to test her with (Yeungling), and ordered a Coors Light in frustration.

The pimiento cheeseburger was very good; thick, juicy, well done and crumbly around the edges-signifying a hand tossed patty. The pimiento cheese was creamy, with a goodly amount of pepper chunks. The pimiento cheese fries, however, were a disappointment, though it was no fault of the restaurant; pimiento cheese just doesn’t belong on fries. It was a gamble that didn’t pay off. The prices are reasonable. It’s not a bad place to spend a few bucks on victuals—once you find it.

Diner rating: 4

THE REASON YOU GO TO AN ALE HOUSE IS FOR THE ALE

Hunter Gatherer Ale House and Pub
900 Main Street
Columbia SC
803-748-0540

Heavy shades block the afternoon sun from the large windows at the Hunter-Gatherer Alehouse

This restaurant is in a building that used to be an electric repair shop. Perhaps that explains the old lighting fixtures that were obviously recycled from a church sanctuary. The building is in need of a paint job on the outside. Much of the signage has been weathered away, so that at first glance one might mistake it for a derelict. The inside is not much better with bare brick walls and floor joists visible in the ceiling. The tables and chairs are a hodge-podge of flea market retreads. Featured prominently are the huge stainless steel kettles where they make the beer, accompanied by a maze of pipes and tubes that would make an oil refinery green with envy.

On the Friday night we were there, the place was packed, perhaps in part due to its recent spotlighting by Michael Feldman on his “Wha’d Ya Know?” show on public radio when he visited the city a few days earlier.

There was a sign that said “please seat yourself” but because of the layout of the place, with tables tucked away in dark and secluded areas, it was difficult to see all the tables, much less identify any empty ones. There were other people standing around drinking beer and I didn’t know if they were waiting as well or just passing time, so when I finally spotted the waitress wiping off a table in the back corner of the balcony I grabbed my wife and made a bee line for the spot, squeezing between the closely spaced tables on the ground floor with a flurry of ‘scuse me’s” and “pardon me’s’ until I made it to the back stairs.
The table was next to the pop off valve of one of the kettles making it difficult to concentrate on the menu, but I had a good view of the stuffed coyote over the door. The menu had more or less standard fare of pizza, sandwiches, some steaks and the perfunctory Penne Pasta. The prices were moderate and met my two for twenty rule, meaning that two people could eat for twenty dollars or less(minus drinks). I had the Penne, my wife indulged her pizza fetish. The penne came with a “marinara sauce”, which reminded me of a can of Hunts tomatoes with Italian seasoning but it had a pile of fresh parmesan on top. My wife’s pizza was smallish and a little soggy, but the Asiago cheese gave it a nice bite.

But the reason you go to an ale house is for the ale. I tried the stout, which I had heard good things about. The beer was smooth and not too hoppy. It had good authority and the nutty flavor was true to the bottom of the glass.

Diner rating 4